Bubala, Mumi & Max

Thursday, December 29, 2005

Searching For Something More

Now that this blog has been up for more than a month, and since we are now averaging at least 4 hits a day, two of which are me checking in to see how many hits we're getting in a day, I thought it might be interesting to see how the rest of you people are actually ending up here.

Obviously, some of you are coming on over from a post on another blog that you read that mentions this blog. Or, maybe you followed our very first actual bona fide link from this great blog to get here. (Thanks for the links guys. We do appreciate it!)

Some of you, however, ended up here purely by accident as evidenced by the following list of actual search strings typed into Google, MSN and other search engines that brought poor, unsuspecting Web surfers here to our little conversation place in cyberspace. Here they are in no particular order:

"I like boobs alot" - Hey bud, I do too! Unfortunately, I don't think we're serving the flavor of boobs that you're probably craving!

"enjoy a man's" - Damn, I wish they'd finished this string. Enjoy a man's what? Ass? Cock? Clam Chowder? Just what were they looking for, and have they found it yet?

"mr hankey kit" - Well, I must admit, that if you're searching for a piece of crap, you might just have ended up at the right place.

"prostate exam female doctor" - Hmmmmm... I prefer my prostate checks to be performed by men... in jockstraps... and not with their fingers...

"frigid wife" - If you have a frigid wife, we just might be able to help you relieve some of that stress...

"gay physical exams" - What makes one physical exam more gay than another physical exam? Is it the shoes?

"country crock cinnamon spread" - Awww, some poor old unsuspecting house frow was just looking for some info about her favorite new creamy, cinnamon butter spread, when she stumbled into... The Bubala, Mumi & Max Zone! Eeeek!

"turn your head and cough" - If a physical exam is what you are searching for, I'd certainly be happy to check you out... As long as you are hot, hairy, oh yeah and really, really naked.

"nicknames for grandmothers" - Hey Mee Maw, Mom-mom, Nanna, come check this out. They got them thar gay guys in Muhr-land too.

On a completely unrelated note: We are going to be there for "shirtless men drink free" night tonight at the Green Lantern in D.C. If you see us, please come on over and say hi! We're really very friendly guys, honest!

Wednesday, December 28, 2005

Ghosts Of Christmas Past

Well, Christmas is over. Just like that. A couple of months of worrying about what presents to get for which people, days spent wrapping gifts, all those cards signed, sealed and delivered, all those cookies, cakes, pies... Now, it's all over... Thank goodness!

Actually, this past Christmas wasn't so bad. It just seems to have come and gone very quickly.

I did get some great gifts this year though! I got two of this guy's CD's, this CD, this DVD, this DVD box set, some fun little hand held electronic games like Yahtzee and Connect Four, some clothes (snore!), a blood pressure monitor, a cool Snoopy trash can, a distortion effect guitar pedal, an electronic dart board and a bunch more! I can't complain about this year's haul!

We had fun spending time with our families, for the most part. Since they live close to us, we do not have to spend multiple days with any of them. That helps a to keep us both relatively sane during the holidays (pun intended...) One of Mumi's nephews finally called me Uncle Jason this weekend. That was nice. For years, I have been known to his family as simply Jason. In my family, on the other hand, we are known to the young ones as Uncle Jay and Aunt Steve. Ha ha! Aunt Steve... that's funny!

Mmmmmmm...This guy was at our workplace holiday Christmas party. He is so hot, that I had to sneak his picture and post it on our blog. He no longer works with us, but I am glad he showed up at the party anyway.

Max enjoyed the holiday also. He loves ripping open Christmas presents. (And mail, and magazines and anything else he can get his chompers on!)

Max Rips One!

Okay, so I get ready to open my Pop Tarts this morning. Have you eaten Pop Tarts lately? They have these little cartoon characters on the foil packages saying and doing all sorts of wacky things. Most of the time, they are very cute little cartoons. This morning, however, I had to do a double take when looked at my Pop Tarts. I think they've gone pornagraphic...

Porn Tarts
Can someone explain this one to me?

Monday, December 26, 2005

Our Little Glen Burnie Christmas Miracle

Little Baby Jesus, Jr."For unto you is born this day in the city of Glen Burnie a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord."

We got into Glen Burnie late at night on Christmas Eve. All of the flop-houses were booked full with big-haired, long-nailed 50¢ hookers performing their own "Christmas miracles" on their greasy, rotund, Camaro-driving Johns. There was not a room to be found anywhere for Mumi and me, not even at the Econo Lodge. So, we were graciously given a place to rest for the night inside a few cardboard boxes taped all together with duct tape behind the local Pep Boys store.

Very shortly after midnight, Mumi began to feel pains in his stomach. He figured it was just that Ann's footlong hot dog "with everything" that he had eaten earlier in the day coming back to haunt him, so he made a mad dash jumping from out of the cardboard boxes, and he headed straight for the bathroom at the 24 hour "Cheapest Gas" convenience store next door.

Well, it wasn't gas that Mumi had... You see, it seems that Mumi must have had his own little Immaculate Conception somewhere along the way this past year. What popped out of him this past Christmas morning had nothing to do with the nasty, greasy footlong hot dog he had eaten the night before. It was a baby! A brand new miracle baby! The second coming of Jesus! Hallelujah! (He has his father's eyes, don'tcha think?)

We were so excited, to say the least! So were the Pep Boys, Manny, Moe and Jack. They brought our new baby gifts of tire irons, 10W-30 synthetic motor oil and fuzzy dice to hang from our rear view mirror. Best of all, Jimmy Chalfant, the legendary drummer for the now defunct local Baltimore rock band, Kix came by to play his drum for our little miracle baby. It was a kick-ass night for sure! Certainly a Christmas that I will not soon forget.

Thursday, December 22, 2005

You Gotta Keep 'Em Separated

I'll get you and your little doggie too! (insert witchy cackles here...)There is absolutely nothing cute or cheery or uplifting about this photograph. It is just plain scary... That is all I have to say about that...

Eerie, isn't it?

Tuesday, December 20, 2005

Smells Like Christmas Spirit

More Fun Than A House Full Of MonkeysBubala seems to have more Christmas spirit than I do this year. After we decorated the tree together, he finished up by tying together the "Barrel Of Monkeys" chains of garland to go around it. (No self respecting monkey Christmas tree should be without "Barrel Of Monkeys" garland!). Actually, the tree looks kind of weird this year. It’s a little too tall and has long twisted branches that look more like octopus tentacles than tree limbs. At least it hasn’t fallen over yet this year like a few of our past trees did. One year, the tree fell over while we were out and broke a bunch of our favorite glass ornaments. I came home and found the tree on it’s side. Glass fragments were everywhere, and the dog was freaked out. It was a big mess. So, I very carefully undecorated the tree and threw that fucker right out the front door. We’ve since learned to tie the tree to the wall every year.

The Dreaded Octopus Tree Monster!

Then, he hung up our stockings with care...

Sneaky Way To Get More Presents!

A word should be said here about our nicknames so you can better understand.

His, Bubala (pronounced boo-bah-lah), is actually a Yiddish word that Jewish grandmothers or mothers sometimes call children. I just started calling him that, because I like the way it sounds when you say it. Now, neither of us is Jewish, and I’m not a mother or a grandmother which, hopefully, should answer any other questions. When I gave him that nickname, I did not know that it is was also his sister’s dog’s name. The dog has since passed away though, so now there is only Bubala in the family.

Mine, Mumi (pronounced moo-mee), was a first attempt several years ago by my then 2 ½ year old nephew at saying the word monkey. A later attempt was "Moompmey." The first one seemed to stick though, and Bubala started calling me that, and has been ever since.

Now, we don’t expect anyone other than us and the dog to use these names. We’d probably answer to them, but we would surely look at you kind of strange. It’s more of a family kind of ritual that we call each other by those names. We have had them for almost 10 years now. It actually sounds strange to us to hear each other ues our real names.

Um, okay... whatever!Bubala made this really cool Christmas card to send to all of our Porcupine Tree fan friends that we have met on the road from D.C. all the way up to Boston. And, here is a special holiday wish to all of you: "May all of your Porcupine Trees be bright with fruit salad lights."

I had BETTER get what I want for Christmas, or else!
Why look! Even our new friend, the Zuni fetish doll, is getting into the Christmas spirit.

Naughty or Nice?We took our dog, Max for his annual trip to to Petsmart to visit Santa Claus. He told Santa that he wants a million dog treats, doggie ice cream, lots of new squeaky toys and two breakfasts everyday instead of only one. He also wants Mumi to take him for long walks everyday, even when it’s really cold outside and he wants two dinners every night instead of only one. He wants Bubala to stop hogging up the bed while he’s trying to sleep with Mumi and a million more treats and some more doggie ice cream. Oh yeah, and he wants to be petted more and he wants Bubala to finally realize and accept that in his house, Mumi is the Alpha dog, Max is the Beta dog and Bubala is the Lambda dog, so Bubala should stop kissing and cuddling with Mumi all of the time, because it makes Max feel left out.

Boy, Santa certainly has his hands full with that list!

Monday, December 19, 2005

A Very Bubala Sort Of Weekend

After being dragged, kicking and screaming, by my man to concert, after concert, after concert to see bands and performers that I'd sooner drink puréed slugs than have to watch live (just kidding, my little bald monkey!), I decided that it was time to even things up a little bit. So, on Friday, I dragged my man, Mumi, out to the 9:30 Club to see the Cyndi Lauper show. And, as much as Mumi wants to pretend that he didn't have a fabulous time, I totally caught him singing along and reaching out to try to touch Cyndi's hand plenty of times.

Since Mumi has already done a great job of describing the show, I won't bore you again with all of those details. I'll just add a few comments...

Jill Sobule was great. She was very funny and entertaining. At one point during her performance, she told us that she suffers from "High Definition A.D.D.", and I believe her! She was a bundle of energy who didn't take herself too seriously. Her intelligent, but very humorous song lyrics were a lot of fun and garnered great response from the crowd, especially the song that she played about how she wished that George W. Bush would follow his real dream to become the comissioner of baseball and give up the whole Presidential thing. Great stuff.

Sandra Bernhard was great also. I had never seen her in real life before, so her stand up comedy routine was a real treat. I actually liked the singing parts too. Not because it was a grammy-worthy performance or anything like that, but because she had the balls to do it in the first place. How many of us would get up there and sing horribly bad Whitesnake and 4 Non-Blonde covers during our comedy performance at the 9:30 Club? Not me.

Now about Cyndi... my beautiful, talented, knockout gorgeous, wife of a woman Cyndi... sigh... What can I say about her? Well, she was just awesome! And, she touched my hand... Wow! I am so glad that we got tickets early this time around, since we were such dorks the last time she came to town. We waited until the last minute, thinking that there would be plenty of tickets available, and they were already sold out. D'oh!

So, Mumi wants to threaten me with the thought of more Rush concerts, eh? That's okay, I am sure that Erasure will tour again some time soon, and we will both be there right in the front row. Now, if that doesn't scare you, nothing ever will!


Sunday, December 18, 2005


Cyndi, We Love You!Well, we went to see Cyndi Lauper on Friday night. Not by my own choice. We don’t always share the same musical tastes, but after 12 Porcupine Tree shows, 4 Blackfield shows, 5 Bob Mould shows, 2 Tori Amos shows and a Devo show (all this year!), I guess I owed it to Bubala to go to a show that he wanted to see. I tried to get out of it at the last minute by saying I felt a cold coming on, it didn’t work though. He made me go anyway. I guess I made my own bed, now I had to sleep in it.

Bubala said he wanted to get close to the stage as well. (Oh joy!) So, we got to the 9:30 Club a little before the doors opened to find a hand full of middle-aged women who used to “just wanna have fun,” and a whole line of gay guys who probably don’t need much more fun standing behind the girls in a line that stretched around the block and then some. After a bit, the line started moving. We got into the club and snagged a place pretty close to the stage. Then, (you know the drill) we stood around all night waiting for the show to start.

First up was Jill Sobule. Remember her? She kissed a girl in the 90’s, and everyone became annoyed about it. She was actually pretty entertaining though. I’d by her CD just because her songs and lyrics are so funny and liberally-politically charged. Good stuff.

Next up, Sandra Bernhard. She was kind of ("fucking") scary. She sang and did some stand up, which was ("fucking") funny. She sang a ("fucking") Whitesnake cover that kind of made me squirm, because people were actually digging it.

Somewhere between the acts, some drunk queen decided that I was a wall and started pushing and leaning against me. I can be tolerant of queens, and I can be tolerant of drunks. Put the two together, however, and it’s a zero tolerance policy for me. The drinks go in, the flames rise higher, and I’m quickly annoyed. Even though I shifted around to move away from him, this dude just kept leaning on me like I was the wall. Finally, I did a more aggressive shake and shift of my body which kind of threw him off balance a bit. Bubala decided to move me on the other side of him to avoid any further complications or altercations. Now, had the drunk queen been my type, I wouldn’t have minded him leaning on me so much...

Finally, Cyndi came on, and everything was fine again. Cyndi Lauper is kind of like the Betty Boop of Rock and Roll. She is a lot more fun than some of her “Gay Iconic Diva” co-conspirators, and she actually plays instruments like the guitar and the dulcimer. She can also belt a note forever, and she did on some songs. Bubala was close enough to be able to hold her hand during a song, and she gave him a Matthew Shepard Erase Hate bracelet. It was not as good a show as the time we saw her do a free show up in Playland amusement Park in Rye NY a few years ago, but it was an okay show. Way too many gay guys though. I would hate to have been that one guy whose wife dragged him along to see Cyndi... Oh, wait a minute....I was one of those guys...

You just wait until Rush tours next year, Bubala, I’ll get even.

What, you want a setlist too? Okay, just don’t tell anyone I had anything to do with it.

All Through The Night
I Drove All Night
Change Of Heart
Goonies (A capealla for a yell out request)
Sisters Of Avalon
She Bop
Home On Christmas Day
Above The Clouds
(some song with Jill Sobule)
True Colors
Money Changes Everything
Time After Time
All The Young Dudes (With Jill and Sandra)
I Saw 3 Ships
Girls Just Wanna Have Fun (But, not more than gay guys do!)

Friday, December 16, 2005

Cyndi! Cyndi! Play The Brady Bunch Theme!!!

My Girlfriend!We are gonna go see Cyndi Lauper at the 9:30 Club in a few hours! I am really looking forward to that! If I was a straight man, I would be so in love with Cyndi Lauper. Wait a minute, I am so in Love with Cyndi Lauper, and I'm not a straight man... oh well.

One time when I saw Cyndi Lauper play at Hammerjacks in Baltimore, there was this drunk guy in the front of the crowd who kept hollering over and over for Cyndi to sing the Brady Bunch Theme. I could see that Cyndi was getting more and more agitated by it all as the night wore on, but she never did sing the Brady Bunch Theme. I hope that drunk guy is not at the show tonight.

We finally got the Christmas tree decorated! Now, it can sit there for a couple of weeks and drop all of it's needles onto the carpet, before we tear it all down and put it all way again... oh well.

It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like A Christmas Tree

Thursday, December 15, 2005

I Think, Therefore I Blog...

In My BrainI think too much all of the time about nothing important whatsoever at all. My mind just keeps on going, I can't stop it.

I think about how everything in the whole world is happening to everyone in the whole world all at once. Whatever is happening to you right now is happening at the same exact time as whatever is happening to me right now. You experience the same number of seconds, minutes, hours and days every year as me. (As long as we both remain alive, that is.) Obviously, we have many different experiences and, possibly, we even share some similar experiences in our lives, but it all happens at the same exact time. Everyone is doing something right now, right this second. Everyone is somewhere right now doing something, or possibly doing nothing, which is actually something. You are doing something right now, arent you? Yes, so am I.

Some people are just being born. Some are just about to die. Some people are somewhere in between. Some people are happy and successful beyond their wildest dreams. Some people are just about right where the dreamed they'd be, and some people are nowhere close to realizing any dreams at all that they may have ever had for themselves.

I read something interesting in an article in Astronomy magazine recently that, surprisingly, I had not managed to think up all on my own, even after all these years and all the many thousands of useless thoughts that I have thunk. The article said that there is no such thing as darkness. There is only the abscence of lightness. Also, there is no such thing as nothing, only the abscence of something.

I guess that makes sense, sort of. I agree with the lightness/darkness part. I just can't say that I agree with the nothing/something part completely. Now, as far as the big picture is concerned, sure, there is no such thing as nothing. There is always something. In this whole wide universe that we are only a miniscule speck within, there has always been, and will always be something.

On a more personal level, however, I believe that there once was nothing and, one day, there will be nothing again. Everything that is me will eventually cease to exist. The thoughts and memories that are stored on the hard drive within my brain will one day become corrupt. The electrical impulses will disband and fall all apart. My thoughts, my memories, everything that is me will scatter about wildly and without order and will continue to dissipate further and further into nothingness.

That won't quite be the end of me though, because there will be some people alive who have memories of me still inside them, so I won't be nothing quite yet. Eventually, however, all of those peoples' thoughts and memories will follow the same path to destruction as mine had taken previously. Then, I will be both physically and physiologically nothing again.

I don't think about all of this stuff in a depressing way. It's not like I'm sitting around afraid to do anything for fear that someday I will be nothing or anything like that. It's just becuase I think too much that these thoughts are even born. As a result, however, I know that nothing stays the way that it is forever. Everything changes in everyone's life. I only hope that as more changes come along in my life, I can continue to learn to adapt.

Tuesday, December 13, 2005

Our First Of The Last Basement Blowoffs

Rich & BobSaturday night, after a six day work week, Bubala took me, a very tired Mumi, down to the last Blowoff to be held in the Backbar in the 9:30 Club’s basement. I don’t know why it took us so long to get to one of these events. I was well aware that they were happening through my interest in Bob Mould’s work. I guess the thought of going just fell more onto the con’s list than the pro’s list.

1. I’m not a big dance music fan.
2. 45 minute drive into not one of the best areas of DC at night.
3. We don’t drink.
4. People can be clique-ish when you’re a stranger.
5. We are both boring married guys who stopped saying “what the fuck” and just going for it.

So, despite what we thought about the potential con’s, we went anyway. It’s good that we did, because we both had a really good time. We showed up at about 10:30pm, and our handsome hosts/DJs made us feel very welcome right from the start. We got familiar greetings from Bob right away, and Rich came over and introduced himself to us shortly after that, which made us feel very comfortable. The place was smaller than I thought, and as the night went on, it got crowded. I’m sure the intimacy of the place was nice for those hot summer night Blowoffs where the guys wore less a lot less flannel and a lot more fur, but since this is December, the flannel ruled out tonight.

The music was actually really good, a great mix of different stuff ranging from electro-pop to glam rock, more on the high energy electronic side. It was not blasting away too loudly, so we could easily communicate with others without having to shout which is always a plus. The best part about the music was no screaming banshee divas from hell, at least not while we were there. Now, you may call me old fashioned, but I have no problems listening to Jimi Hendrix make love to his guitar in all kinds of distorted high frequencies, but I just can’t take all those high pitched female singers/screamers. I just want to put my fingers in my ears and wish it all away.

The crowd was full of a lot of nice looking guys. Some were friendly, and some just looked our way a lot (and I looked back!) Some guys really get off on having other guys cruise them, I don’t like it so much though. It makes me really uncomfortable. (That’s why I don’t go out as much as I used to.) I try to ignore it, which I am sure comes across as me being snobby rather than what it actually is, shyness or awkwardness. I’ve never rejected ANYONE who had the balls to come over and say “Hi” to me though. I’m pretty easy going, just a bit reserved, I guess. Anyway, we had a great time, and I’m sure that, weather permitting, we’ll be around for next month’s upstairs Blowoff debut.

In a foot note to Bubala’s post about Mystery Boy X: This dude loves to tease us gay guys by lifting up his shirt and rubbing his stomach and grabbing his dick through his sweat pants. He knows what he‘s doing, even though he thinks that we don‘t know that. I’m old enough to be his dad, however, so that’s kind of weird. I’m more the type to try to tell him that, “too much partying makes you dumb, and too much sex gives you STD’s.” I did ask him if he wanted to hang out with me this past weekend, get stoned and go check out that new cowboy movie that opened just up. He turned me down though.

Monday, December 12, 2005

Praises For Blowoff

Blowoff On Saturday night in the Backbar at the 9:30 Club in D.C. was a blast! A couple of hot DJ's, lots of hot guys, a great mix of thumping hot music and plenty of booze. What a great combination! If you've never been, you should go. If you've already been, then you already know... We are looking forward to next month's Blowoff in the main room upstairs. Hope to see you there!

Saturday, December 10, 2005

Mystery Boy X

Okay, so there is this guy at work. We'll call him "Mystery Boy X" so as not to embarrass anyone or cause any unnecessary sexual harassment lawsuits or whatever.

Well, maybe I should say there is this kid at work. Though not actually a kid, he is 21 years old, he is still seems very much like a kid to me. He still has that high school "party til you puke" attitude. The pursuit of "snatch" is not only his favorite hobby, but also, apparently, his full time job. He is always stoned off his ass. He is a white trash, yo boy complete with the gold chains, backwards baseball cap, way too baggy clothes and gaudy spinning chrome rims on his pimped out ride. He is a shining, textbook example of everything that I probably should dislike, but... I find him incredibly hot. I don't know what in the hell I'm thinking. This boy is stick thin and hairless, certainly not the usual kind of guy that I get silly in lust over. He likes rap music for crying out loud! Egads!

I guess my infatuation with Mystery Boy X started one night a couple of years ago, when his girlfriend, Mystery Girlfriend Y, showed me a video text message that she had received on her cell phone from Mystery Boy X. In the video, Mystery Boy X was naked, aroused, and fondling his larger than average appendage all while talking dirty talk to Mystery Girlfriend Y. Now, don't ask me why Mystery Girlfriend Y decided that it was a good idea to share her boyfriend's home made porn with an out, gay man at work of all places, but apparently she thought it is was the thing to do. I certainly wasn't going to complain or get all shocked and turn away in disgust or anything like that. I wouldn't want to offend Mystery Girlfriend Y, after all.

Ever since that night, however, I just cannot look at Mystery Boy X without thinking about that video. I find myself sneaking peeks at his crotch all of the time, especially when he wears those baggy, yo boy sweat pants. I imagine what he would look like naked, strutting around the work place and showing off for me. And, I'm not talking about the kind of naked thinking that you're supposed to imagine about people when you have to speak in front of a large crowd either. This is hard-core, rated-XXX sort of naked thinking. I pretend that he sends secret naughty video sex messages to me instead of that Mystery Girlfriend Y b**ch. I pretend that he is also hot for me, and that sometimes, we sneak off together after work and have quick, hot man-sex right there in the back seat of his pimped out ride before we both head home to our mates. He has the whole "really dark, tinted windows" thing going on, so we can do that right out in the parking lot without getting caught. I'm starting to think that I need professional help.

For Pete's sake, I like hairy, rugged, blue collar, manly men, not twinky hairless kids. What is wrong with me?

Must... stop... thinking about... Mystery Boy X...

Maybe if I just stare at this picture long enough, I can be cured...

My Type Of Guy, Naked And Wet!

Wednesday, December 07, 2005

Getting Close To Season's End

On The Lighter Side...

The Dining Room Hutch Of Misfit Toys...Somewhere over the weekend, the holiday spirit hit me. I’m usually the kind of guy who really hates this time of the year. It’s dark, and it’s cold, and every place is way too crowded. Oh, and a lot of people are assholes too. All of the cheeriness gets to be a little too much to take as well. I figured I better take advantage of my mood before it faded. It’s only the first week of December. Who knows how I’ll feel this time next week? So, I got out some Christmas decorations. You know, those things that seem to breed every year while hiding out in your attic. I put on some Christmas television classics DVD’s and decorated a bit. I think it looks like Auguste Rodin’s Gates Of Hell, and depending on how you view such things, it just might be. One thing is for sure, if I start hating Christmas again, I can always throw things at it and knock it all down.

My Holiday Viewing So Far...

“Santa Claus Is Coming To Town” - The tale of a fascist dictator who won’t let any one in his country play with their toys. (Can you imagine such a thing?). And, the non-conformist rebel who breaks into people’s homes and brings them illegal toys. You’ve got to love a punk kid who does something like that.

“Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer” - The story of three misfits: A deer with a glowing nose, an elf who wants to be a dentist and a mountain man who I’ve always suspected of having a hot, hairy chest. The three of them are bound together by their nonconformity (do you see a pattern here?) and eventually find themselves on an island of misfit toys. And, anyway, I don’t want to give away the ending, but it has one of those underdog prevails kind of messages much like a Rush album.

“A Year With Out A Santa Claus” - In this one, that rebel punk kid (from the first one) is tired of touring. So, he asks everyone if he can have the year off. Then, his wife and these elves go to all this trouble talking to the Heat Miser and the Freeze Miser and Mother Nature trying to get it to snow in the south, and the dude still goes on tour anyway. (What a trooper!)

About Today...

The Weather Outside Is Frightful!Today, it started to snow for the first time this season. When I got home from work, my Marillion Christmas CD was there in the mailbox. It’s a fan club CD that they put out every year at this time with Christmas songs, rare tracks and mixes, and/or live tracks. This year’s CD has their usual loopy Christmas message and a live show from XM studios in Washington, DC from last June. I wasn’t there, but I did see them on the two nights before performing more of an acoustic show with just three of them, “Los Trios Marillos.”

On the Darker Side...

I got an early Christmas present. I ordered it online, and, unfortunately, when it got here it was broken. I could have sent it back, but the shipping was non refundable. To get a new one would have just cost too much in shipping. So, Bubala fixed it. He’s good at that.

And now ladies and gentlemen, she’s back to turn back time for all those who believe...

Ladies & Gentlemen... Cher!

Only this time, the farewell tour isn’t for her. It’s for you!

Ladies & Gentlemen... ummm... NOT Cher!

I really have to make sure that my Zuni fetish doll's chain doesn’t fall off now that it’s out of the box. I really don’t think Max would like it too much if it came to life and started chasing him around the house while we’re both at work...

Monday, December 05, 2005

When You Wish Upon A Star

We spent this past Friday night having dinner and watching a movie with our good friends, Tim and Donn, at their place. We all had a great time, and are looking forward to the next time that we can all get together. It is very cool that we have found a couple of guys that we have so much in common with. We share similar tastes in music, movies and so much more. They are the nicest guys, and it certainly doesn't hurt that they are also pretty freakin' hot! We are both very thankful to have met them.

Keep Reaching For The StarsOn the way home from Tim and Donn's place, just as we were getting onto the road, Mumi and I saw a falling star. We both saw it streak right down the sky right there in front of us. Now, I'm not going to get all out there and new age on you and ramble on about how falling stars are some sort of sign or omen or a message from God or whatever, but I do certainly think that they are something special. After all, not everyone sees them. As a matter of fact, I have some friends who swear that they have never seen one in their entire lives. I, on the other hand, have been looking up at the night sky all of my life, always searching for falling stars and other celestial eye candy. It's just something that I do. Therefore, I have seen many, many falling stars in my life. In fact, I am sure that I have seen more falling stars than the average joe. I even managed to catch a glimpse of a falling star in broad daylight a few years ago. I was bike riding with Mumi, and suddenly, this greenish streak shot across the daylight sky. I told Mumi about it and asked him if he had seen it, but he said that he hadn't. In fact, he insinuated that I was either lying, going crazy or seeing things, or possibly all three. But, later that day, we heard a news story on the radio about how thousands of people across the state had seen the same daytime falling star. So, my credibility and sanity were once again restored.

When I was much younger, I did believe that falling stars were an omen or a sign from some higher being. I also really believed that I was special since I saw them all of the time. I thought that there must be some voice out there, or possibly even inside me, that told me when to look up at just the right second to catch sight of the meteors. I even went so far as to believe that the falling stars somehow empowered me. They gave me strength or energy. Surely, because I was witnessing all of those falling stars, one day I would be famous or rich or super intelligent or whatever. I was a chosen one. Oh, how glorious life was surely going to be for me, the super special falling star seeing boy!

Well, here I am in the present day... I am not famous. I am not rich. (Well, not rich with money, that is...) And, I am certainly not super intelligent. However, I am still seeing those falling stars. They are still as beautiful as I ever remember them being. And, as short as each of their existences is, the memories of their ephemeral bursts of light across the night time skies stays with me long past their physical lifetime as do the memories of all of the times and places and people that were present in my life during those special seconds when I was lucky enough to catch a glimpse of one blazing bright down the darkened sky. Cherished memories, for sure. Memories that could never be replaced. Memories that I am thankful to have retained. Memories that make up the story of my life, chapter by chapter, star by star.

Maybe I am more rich than I really know. Maybe I am already as famous as I need to be. Maybe I am just intelligent enough to remember to take the time, every now and then, to look up into the night time skies. You just never know when another memory might be trying to burn itself into the vast, star-filled skies in the universe of your mind. You never know when a star is going to make that sort of sacrifice for you...

Friday, December 02, 2005

Burning The Midnight Oil

Bubala Rockin' & Rollin'Been staying up late lately playing the new keyboard. I like it a lot, and I am sure that it is going to inspire me into days and nights of creativity. I have been in a lull lately, artistically speaking.

Going to dinner tonight with a couple of friends at their place. Gonna watch a movie after dinner, War Of The Worlds, I think. Should be a great time.

I am a nice guy. I'm sure that I certainly do not always appear to be a nice guy though. You see, I get frustrated easily, and I guess I have high expectations for everyone around me. I get so mad at incompetence, that I am sure a lot of people probably think I am a big jerk, but I am a nice guy... really.

Can Dogs Blog? I mean, is that legal?

Max Blogging...

Here is a poem to close out this entry... enjoy!

Couldn't Change

     In this bed
     Two beautiful dreamers
     Plotting out their fate together
     No predictions
     It only happens
     Couldn’t change it if you were God
     Another passage
     You surely feel it
     And wonder
     If you will change the world tomorrow
     Sometimes question
     Where’s the good news
     Gathered around your happiness
     Filling in cracks in your walls
     Hoping no one else has noticed
     The aces up your sleeves